The Gorg's Curse
by Era Yachi
Summary: Virginia succumbs to a curse that no one wants to cure. Why? This isn't a normal curse. Poor Jet, Gallows and Clive now must find some way to 'cure' her. Mayhem ensues. Warning: Some youknowwhat references. A JetVirginia fanfiction.
1. The Problem

**Summary: **An unexpected and rare curse has been released on Virginia. Unfortunately, there is only one cure and no one wants to tell Virginia what it is. Jet, Gallows and Clive, however, must act quickly before the curse consumes their fearless leader and turns her body into ash. The circumstances? They're pretty embarrassing. How will they manage to find a way to 'cure' her before it's too late? A Jet/Virginia fic.

**Disclaimer: **Ha. Hahahaha....HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Me? Own Wild Arms? Muahahahahahaha...yeah right! Whew...wipes tears (No, I don't. I DON'T, OKAY? breaks down sobbing)

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**Alright, hate me if you want. I've decided to take a break from KOW just to write this short fanfiction that suddenly popped up in my head while talking to my friend on the bus. …**

**I am warning you now. There is no lime or lemon in any chapters of this story, so if that's all you're here for, scram. You can laugh, squeal and/or stare slack-jawed at your screen foo endless hours while you read this, but I solemnly swear that I have written this out of respect for Virginia/Jet/Clive/Gallows and I am not planning any character bashing.**

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_**The Gorg's Curse**_

It was under the hot, midday sun that Jet stood, watching the window where Virginia was being hospitalized. The warm air was irritating; he was otherwise accustomed to it, but today was different. Today, everything was wrong, out of place and uncomfortable. Everything that had been white was now black; all that was good was now bad.

Try as he might, he couldn't shake his thoughts of it. Had he acted just a little sooner, Virginia would not have…

But no, it had been no one's fault. When the dying monster had attached itself to her back and sunk its venomous teeth into her flesh, no one had been able to act. Even though Gallows shot the creature dead, the damage had already been done. Now Virginia was stricken, doomed to her bed with some unidentified curse possessing her body, threatening to take her life away at any moment.

Upon admitting her to Cheville's care, the three 'men' had been directly ordered to stay outside while the doctor ran the more personal tests required to pinpoint the source of Virginia's ailment. At the moment, Jet couldn't find a place better suited than outside the window. Clive had gone home to see to his own affairs, and Gallows…

Jet grimaced bitterly. He didn't care where that slow-witted oaf went. Right now, all Jet wanted to do was watch the black curtain on the other side of the window.

Wasn't like he had something else to do.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention towards the north end of town. Both Clive and Gallows were coming towards him, wearing matching expressions of concern for their sick leader. The sniper appeared especially troubled, apparently thinking on two unpleasant subjects at once. In fact, it dawned on Jet how worse the stress in Clive's behavior had become over the past few days.

"How's our fearless leader?" said Gallows, far from being his normal, cheerful self.

Jet looked at him coldly. "How should I know? Nothing's happened yet."

"What?" Gallows frowned. "It's been like what, two hours? How long does it take to diagnose a patient, anyway?"

Clive adjusted his glasses, turning his attention to Cheville's house. "It has been a lot longer than I expected," he said. "Even though Virginia's case is rare, the actual process of analyzing a disease should not take any more than one hour."

"Damn. Should someone check, just in case?" inquired Gallows feebly.

"Not yet," said Clive. "We do not want to intrude on anything that will place us in an uncomfortable position."

The Baskar scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. "…Good point."

They did not have to wait very long. After a few, brisk moments of waiting patiently for Virginia's diagnosis, the door to the house creaked open to reveal the slightly flushed, worn out face of the doctor.

"Thank you gentlemen," said Cheville, wiping her brow with her sleeve. "You can all come in now. She's resting."

Jet exchanged glances with the others, reading their expressions with emphatic calculation. He then moved himself forward and up the steps towards the temporary clinic with Clive and Gallows close in tow.

The three Drifters filed into the house while Cheville motioned for them to be quiet. Both the Baskar and the sniper took a seat at the table in the middle of the room; Jet found a suitable place to lean against the wall nearby. The door to Virginia's room was closed and a kettle was quietly bubbling on the stove in the corner.

Cheville waited until everyone was settled before taking a place at the table as well. She was fidgeting slightly, wringing her fingers together and refusing to make eye contact with any of the men surrounding her. After an uncertain silence, she sighed and placed her hands on the table.

"I...think I've found out why she's been sick," she explained quietly. "I'll try my best to explain...but please, don't interrupt me before I'm finished..."

"Hey, wait-" interrupted Gallows, sitting rigid in his chair. "Are we talking about something serious? Ginny's, uh...gonna be okay, right?"

The female doctor began to fidget again. "Yes, I believe so..." she went on carefully. "There is a cure for the Gorg's Curse..."

Clive gestured wth a gloved hand. "There is? Please tell us, so we can track down its ingredients immediately."

"Um..." Cheville lowered her head. "I'm afraid it's not...that kind of cure."

Everyone blinked at this. Clive was, of course, the first one to speak. "If not a remedy of some sort, what type of cure is there?"

"It's, um..." She fell silent, hesitating with her words. She opened her mouth, but closed ti soon after. Her eyes darted wildly, as if searcing the room for the right thing to say.

"Just spit it out!" snapped Jet from his part of the room. When everyone was unconditionally staring at him, he side glanced and snorted. "Geez..."

"The Gorg's Curse," said Cheville, spilling her words like an avalanche ready to explode, "is really simliar to the Curse of the Gorgon...see, um, Gorgons were terrible, demi-human creatures in the ancient times...they preyed on young woman, raped and killed them."

No one had a response for this. And seemingly satisfied that she would not be interfered with again, Cheville gathereed her wits and continued.

"This is different," she said with a little relief. "Virginia's curse is extrememly rare...because once exposed to the victim, it proves only fatal to those who are...um..." She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Why did she have to explain this to three _men_? "...immaculate."

This, of course, had no effect on either Gallows or Jet. Clive, on the other hand, stared openly for a full five seconds before turning a brilliant shade of pink. Trembling slightly, he re-adjusted his glasses and spoke. "You are positive?"

"Yes..." Cheville sighed again, relieved that she had made her point to someone who understood. "Given the date of her infection...unless she's cured in forty to sixty hours, her body will dehydrate severely and she's quite literally turn into...dust."

"What?" Gallows' face twisted in confusion. "Wait a minute, what's wrong with Virginia? Fill us in, Clive!"

Cheville coughed slightly, realizing that she must be blushing severely as well. "Immaculate means...um, well..."

"A virgin," finished Clive. He was surprisngly calm as he said it.

The Baskar's face fell considerably. Instead of blushing, however, the blood drained from his face as the new information finall sunk in. "....oh..."

Jet stumbled to keep his balance, trying to make sense of the awkward situation. "Hold on," he said warily. "Are you saying, in order to cure...we have to..."

"Don't say it!" growled Gallows. "I don't even want to think about it!"

"Is there some other cure?" inquired Clive, practically ignoring the stone-cold glare he was receiving from his silver-haired teammate. "Or perhaps an alternative procedure?"

Cheville shook her head and sighed for a third time. "No," she said wearily. "And no...sorry. As a doctor, I can't do anything without putting the patient at risk.."

Gallows was leaning back in his chair, looking sullen. "Does Ginny even know?"

"No," came the doctor's apologetic reply. "I thought maybe...it was best you told her. There's nothing I can do to help her, after all."

Another awkward silence drifted by. Gallows and Clive looked at each other seriously. Cheville glanced from Clive, to Gallows, and then to the wall where she glued her eyes. Clive looked at Cheville, and to Gallows once again. Gallows stared at Virginia's door for a moment before glancing back to Clive.

And then, slowly, their eyes travelled to Jet.

He stared at them, unblinking.

"....What?"

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**Ah, it's just a prologue. Anyway, remember. No lemons. No limes. Sorry to disappoint you...**

**And join us in the next chapter, where there are yet more awkward silences! There must be discusing about what must be done! And Virginia has no clue what's wrong with her teammates.**

**Sigh...**


	2. The Debate

**Er…interesting reviews. Aha. Trust me, these poor guys are going to have much more trouble than that. Gallows being an idiot, Jet being completely difficult…Clive desperately trying to keep things under control…yeah, we'll see. Anyway, let's just read.**

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**_The Gorg's Curse_**

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"Let us use what we know," said Clive, once Cheville had decided to leave them to sort their 'problem' out. "Yesterday, our leader was bitten and infected by a Gorg. To make matters worse, we must overcome this…obstacle, or Virginia will die in a matter of one or two days."

"Obstacle?" growled Gallows. "This is Ginny we're talking about, Clive. I don't wanna have anything to do with this!"

"For once, I agree with him," said Jet. "Besides, what do you mean 'we'? You're the smart guy, aren't you? Figure this out yourself."

"Unfortunately," said the sniper patiently, "our options are already limited. Devising an alternative plan would further jeopardize Virginia and misuse our time."

For the next few moments, the only sounds in the room were the steady drumming of Gallows fingertips on the table and the ticking of the clock overhead. No one spoke, or moved for at least a minute before Gallows shifted his weight and rested his forehead on his palm.

"You mean…" he said haltingly. "Someone really has to…you know…"

Clive did not say anything, but nodded. When another silence ensued, and Clive continued to stare at him with an expectant look, the Baskar began to realize something else.

"Wait-" he almost choked, slapping the palms of his hands on the table. "One…one of us!?"

It was now that Jet felt a cold shiver run up his spine. He didn't know why he'd just assumed that someone _else_ would volunteer and do it, but now the truth was finally setting in. Knowing Virginia, would she even consider anyone outside of the people she knew best? Especially if she knew she had to do it, who would she _want_ to do it?

Not him. Jet pushed the thought away with such force that it startled him. Not for all the gella in the world, he decided bitterly. She was just too…well, _unattractive_.

Which, of course, was the complete opposite of how he really felt.

"I believe it's safe to say that I am not suited for the task," said Clive with a slight tinge of restriction in his voice. "Assuming we will not be telling Virginia about the curse, I would imagine she would not approve even if I were…eligible."

"Obviously," Gallows muttered. He sighed and looked crossly at the silver-haired Drifter. "I think Jet should do it. He's the closest one to her, isn't he?"

"Gimme a break!" snapped Jet, uncrossing his arms. "Virginia and I aren't like that at all!" He paused for a moment, before leaning against the wall again and closing his eyes. "Why don't we just rent her out? It'll solve our problem, not to mention reel in some decent cash."

"That's your plan?" said Gallows. "What are we gonna do, drug her and string her up by the feet? Paint a sign that says 'Cheap Sex Toy For Sale'?"

It was clear that the Baskar was becoming more than 'ticked off' by Jet's arrogant behavior. This is why Clive chose that moment to intervene, leading their train of thought towards another subject.

"Virginia cannot know that she is under the Gorg's curse," he pointed out solemnly. "She may believe that her life is not worth 'forcing' someone to 'expose' themselves in order to cure her."

Gallows felt slight guilty when he knew that Clive was right. "It's uh…not like that," he said, as if every word he spoke was a hot coal coming from his mouth. "It's, you know…Virginia. Of course I'd do pretty much anything to save her life, you know? But she's not like that…she's like a little sister to me. It would feel really, really wrong."

Clive nodded in understanding. Always prepared to hear both sides of a debate, he then looked towards Jet.

Jet scowled deeply. "I'm not doing it."

"Not doing what?"

All three of them jumped noticeably at the sound of their 'fearless leader's voice. When they each directed their attention towards the source, they observed a very wide-awake and happily smiling Virginia standing in the doorway to the adjoining room.

"Oh," she said, dropping her smile a little. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Not at all," said Clive, forcing a casual smile. "We were only deciding who will look after the horses overnight. How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she said, stifling a yawn. She also noticed that both Jet and Gallows were staring at her oddly. She planted her fists on her hips and frowned at them. "Cut that out, you two! I'm not going to fall apart any second!"

"Uh…" Gallows scratched his head, averting his gaze. "Yeah, sorry…"

"What about it?" said Jet, breaking the uncoordinated mood. He stared at Clive firmly. "Who's looking after the horses tonight?"

At first, Gallows didn't catch on. He had just begun to form a question on his tongue when he happened to spot Clive's reproachful expression from the corner of his eyes. Instantly, the Baskar's instincts kicked in.

"WHAT?" he practically bellowed. "You're letting _him_ decide!?"

Jet rolled his eyes and, ignoring the surprised look on Virginia's face, stood up. "Why not? You said you would do it, right? Either way, I don't care."

"I am not deciding anything," said Clive, trying desperately to back out of their argument. "However, if you cannot come to an agreement soon, I will look after them myself. That way, the both of you can resolve your problem without my interfering."

Virginia was looking on quietly, every once in a while feeling ready to leap at them with a comment of her own. However, their weird debate ended abruptly, which left her behind in the turbulence of their words. Blinking, she took a few steps forward and spoke haltingly.

"Um…" She stopped, and sighed. "If no one wants to watch the horses, why don't we flip a coin? That way no one will have an excuse to stay behind."

There was a moment of dead silence. Eventually, Clive was the first to come to his senses. "Perhaps we shouldn't be resolving our problems based on luck," he said, trying his best to hide the double meaning of his reason with a wearied tone. "It seems rather childish to be bickering over something so small."

"Don't be silly," she said while rummaging through one of her pockets. "See, I have a coin right here. Whoever loses the coin-toss stays here, and the winner looks after the horses."

"Sounds fair to me," said Jet. He wore a carefully crafter mask of indifference.

Gallows looked ready to faint. "I, uh…I guess…"

"Ready?" said Virginia, smiling. Apparently, her thoughts weren't even remotely related to the ones in the minds of her contestants. "Okay, Gallows, you call it in the air!"

Placing the gella coin on her thumb, she held out her arm and flipped the small disc into the air.

"Tch-" Gallows clenched his teeth. His eyes followed the rotating form of the nefarious instrument of currency as it sailed towards the ceiling. He managed to free his throat long enough to squeak his decision. "…tails?"

Four pairs of eyes traveled skywards, and then fell as the coin came to a suddenly stop in the palm of Virginia's hand. Jet rolled his eyes. Clive adjusted his glasses. Gallows held his breath.

Everyone leaned forward to read the results on the face of the coin.

It was heads.

Gallows breath exploded from his lungs, rending his throat raw in the process. Jet was smirking, probably the closest to laughing out loud as he had even been before. With a side-glance at Virginia, the silver-haired Drifter strode towards the door and paused long enough to give the Baskar his regards.

"Have fun," he said casually. "See ya."

With that, he disappeared into the twilight outside.

Which left Gallows, more frozen than anything he'd ever introduced to his freezer doll. The look of shock and dread was plastered on his face, unmoving. He wasn't even breathing, or thinking, or listening. He could only stare at the coin in the palm of Virginia's unfolded hand.

Her expression had changed from serious, to worried. She quickly put the coin away and looked between her two remaining teammates. "Is there…something else going on?"

Clive considered her question for a moment, unsure of how he should handle her suspicion. "It is rather unusual that Jet would respond in that manner," he admitted. "But perhaps we all need rest. After all, you still need to recover from your wounds."

"I suppose," she said, caution edging her voice. "Are you going back? To your house, I mean?"

Once again, Clive nervously pushed his glasses up on his noise and glanced at Gallows. "Of course," he said, masterfully disguising his embarrassment. "There is only one bedroom and two beds here. Cheville has already agreed to sleep in the spare bed in Kaitlyn's room."

Virginia's face lit up with guilty awareness. "Oh no!" she said quickly. "I don't want to be a burden on her! Why don't I sleep in Kaitlyn's spare bed and Cheville can stay here?"

Gallows recuperated from his state of astonishment somewhat. "Uh, no!" he said, probably a bit too quickly to compliment his acting skills. "I mean, uh…someone should look after you…you know…in case you get sick, or something…"

Virginia thought about this for a moment. "Oh…" Suddenly, she grinned. "That's so sweet of you, Gallows!"

"Yeah…" The Baskar dropped his eyes and cleared his throat. "No problem."

No one said anything for a full minute.

"I suppose I should leave now," said Clive at last, pushing his chair back. "I promised Catherine I would return before Kaitlyn goes to bed."

Gallows made an abrupt movement, as if he was prepared to leap right out of his seat. His intentions were subdued, however, by a rock hard glare from the sniper. The Baskar relaxed slightly in the manner of an animal caught in a trap.

"Goodnight, Clive," said Virginia. She broke out in a heavy yawn, sitting down at the table as she did so. "Oh, and would you thank Cheville for me? She's been a big help…"

"I will, Virginia. Sleep well," said Clive. He rose from his seat and took a few strides towards the door. He then froze and turned to Gallows. "Gallows, could I speak to you for a minute? Outside?"

"Uh…" The Baskar scratched the back of his head. "Sure. Coming." Leaving his seat, he crossed the room after the sniper and followed him onto the porch outside the house.

The sun was setting in the distance, leaving the town aglow with a soft, orange hue. There was no one in the square -- it had been deserted for safety purposes, as monster began showing up just around the failing of light.

"Something imperative has come to my attention," explained Clive when they were safely out earshot of their 'fearless leader'. "I'm sure you already know what I am going to say…"

"Uh, yeah?" Gallows was grimacing. "Clive, it's Virginia! How can I…well…argh!"

"I understand," said the sniper. "Please keep your voice down. I also had to say…should this work out, it is important--"

"--to be gentle? Take it slow? Don't hurt her?" Gallows wore a worn down expression, and his posture matched. "Yeah, I got it."

"You must remember that she is…vulnerable," Clive pointed out. "She may be our fearless leader, but she is still a young woman."

"Thanks. I noticed," the Baskar grumbled. "Man, I just can't do this…"

"Yes you can," said Clive. "I agree it should have been Jet to begin with, but it's wrong to force someone in love to do things they are not prepared to do."

"Oh, so it's fine to force someone who's not?" said Gallows, placing one of his large hands over his eyes. "Look, I told you, all right? 'Course I love Ginny, just…not…like that."

"That feeling must be strong enough to protect her, then," came the sniper's stern reply. "I'm sure I'm not the only one that wishes Virginia a full recovery."

"Yeah, I know, I know…" Gallows sighed. "If this really happens…I hope she forgives me…"

"She will understand," Clive assured him. "Should the worst occur, I will simply tell her that it was my idea."

"Pretty heroic," said the Baskar. "Considering it was."

Clive nodded. "Take care," he said before turning around and taking his leave.

Gallows watched him descend the steps. He looked away before the sniper reached the middle of the square, staring directly into the faintly glowing window of Cheville's house. From where he stood, he was able to see Virginia sitting on the edge of her -- he shuddered -- _their_ bed, brushing out her wavy brown hair with a small brush.

He felt his stomach do a flip when his mind began to swim with all kinds of unwanted thoughts. Thoughts that _normally_ would have put a goofy grin on his face and earned him a slug from his 'fearless leader'. But they did not affect him that way, not now, and he doubted they ever would.

Gathering what was left of his wits, he crossed the porch and entered the house.

What was he going to do?

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**I know what you're thinking.  You're screaming, "THIS IS A JET AND VIRGINIA FIC, DAMMIT!!!" Well, you're right. It is.  On the _other_ hand, I love to make things complicated. Therefore, you will read the rest of this fic, and _enjoy _it. Okay? Okay. I'm hungry. floats away**

**floats back By the way…don't assume anything's happened yet. You'll see how the events turn out next chapter. There are NO time lapses in this story unless I point them out! floats away again**

**Klox: **Okay…replies, replies…rummages through the replies

**Aughus: **Are you going through Yachi's things?

**Klox: **Does it look like it? I'm replying. Okay, Black Waltz…sure, thanks. Uh, Teefa85…um…er….ahhh….

**Aughus: **Oh, if only robots could blush.

**Klox: **Shaddup. Keep your Burianne friend away from me, lady.

**Aughus: **Ah, here is one. JayJay-Sawada, is it? I see, you're choice of reasoning is very plausible. The characters mentioned in this story are by my mistress's terms, 'respectable' and any form of adult literature based on these events would simply be too--

**Klox: **Look! A cute librarian!

**Aughus: **Where? wanders off in search of true love

**Klox: **Bwahaha…idiot.

**Yachi**: Look! A data recollection sensor unit!

**Klox: **Where?


	3. The Solution

**As the title implies, this is what happens. Like it or not. **

**Also, you know there are no limes already. However, be prepared for something a few levels below that. Either in this chapter or the next.**

**Also, this is still a Jet/Virginia fic. Don't let anything throw you off. I can be a tricky writer sometimes. Okay, pretty often. Okay, most of the time. Okay, all of the time. Meh…**

**Klox: **She was born a liar…

**Aughus: **Actually, she did not speak falsely. This is a romance, after all.

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_**The Gorg's Curse**_

"Gallows? Is something wrong?"

He jumped. He had been sitting on his bed, staring at her for the past five minutes straight. At first Virginia had ignored him, knowing he was just being the normal Gallows with his normal periods of mindless daydreaming. But when she looked over at him five minutes later, there was something different about his complex expression.

The Baskar hung his arm from the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. Can't quite explain it, but I'm happy you're better and all. You had all of us worried…"

Her face softened as she sat on her own bed across from him. "Oh," she said, feeling slightly relieved. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare any of you. I'll be more careful from now on, okay?"

"Uh…" He nodded slowly. "Okay."

She stood up again, pulling her hair back at the same time. Using the string she had taken out earlier, she tied the stray locks back and smoothed them out in front of the mirror. All the while, Gallows stared at her. His mind was in a state of complete turmoil, typically, torn between obeying his feelings and pure logic.

Should he just tell her? If he did, she might understand…perhaps even cooperate. It would make it all so much easier for him…

But no. Why was he thinking about what would be easier for him? The only reason he was in this position was because of _her_. He had to make this easier for _her_. Telling her about the curse would complicate things indefinitely, and that was the last thing he wanted.

But did he _want_ to do this? Why couldn't he decide? Sure, Virginia was all and dear to him…he'd known her for almost a year now and they had been through a lot. He wasn't alarmed by the thought of the task he had set out for him. He was alarmed, however, by the thought of hurting her…or scaring her, or losing her trust…

So, he thought. How does one woo a woman who has never even _considered_ intimacy?

He sighed quietly. Well, logic told him to try, and so try he would. He stood up and crossed the room to where she was standing, but he kept a healthy distance between them.

"So uh, Virginia…" He did not stutter, or look around. Nothing that would give him away…not yet, at least. "Okay, I'm gonna say something. I'm probably putting my life on the line, but I'll say it anyway."

She turned to face him, her face distorted in mild confusion. But she remained silent.

Gallows drooped his shoulders slightly. "I dunno if anyone ever told you…but in case they didn't, here goes. You're drop-dead gorgeous."

Oh, Guardians, _what_ was he doing?

Virginia's mouth opened slightly. Not all the way, mind, but a little to say the least. After a moment of stunned silence, she surprised him by smiling. "Thank you, Gallows. I've been called 'pretty' before and it was nice, but I 'drop-dead gorgeous' does the trick, too."

He grinned wryly, the beginnings of an awkward feeling creeping into his chest. "Yeah, but uh…that's not all." He took a deep breath. "Geez, this is hard."

Her smiled faded, but the traces of it remained on her face. "Whatever it is, Gallows, it can't be that hard. You know there's nothing you can't share with me. What's on your mind?"

A lot. But he wasn't going to tell her…well, not exactly. See, this is where Gallows ignited every seductive sense he'd used in his long, long history of women. He coughed and shrugged. "You're not just gorgeous, Ginny. You're smart, you're kind, one helluva leader and to top it all off, you can shoot an ARM better than any dualist I've ever known."

Virginia stared at him for a second or two. Then she lifted her arms and crossed them, looking at him with certain amusement. "Okay, what do you want?"

_Nothing you'd ever give to me willingly…_Gallows swallowed. "Ginny, what if I told you there's something I have to do, or someone really important to me will disappear forever?"

This took her by surprise. She blinked at his seriousness. "Um…" She paused. "I suppose I would ask you what you had to do, and then help you decide whether or not you should do it. Gallows…is something wrong? I mean, really wrong…did Cheville tell you something I don't know?"

Damn. She was catching on. Gallows winced. "Uh…say that she did, what would you say if I promised I wouldn't tell you until I did that thing I'm supposed to do?"

She shook her head. "Now you're confusing me! How bad can this thing you have do be, Gallows? This would be easier if I knew what it was."

"Trust me, it wouldn't," said Gallows with definite graveness. "It's something I wanna do because I want to save this person, but I can't…"

Virginia looked saddened and perplexed. Gently, she brushed a strand of hair from her face and motioned to the beds. "First, lets sit down and start over."

Once they were both seated, she folded her arms across her stomach and gazed at him with concern. "Tell me why you can't, well, tell me…"

"That's the hard part," he said. "If I told you why I can't tell you, you'd know why I wasn't supposed to tell you and it would be just like I told you anyway."

She sighed and buried her face in one of her hands. "Gallows, are we still speaking English?"

He smiled crookedly. "Don't think so."

"Right." Her eyes widened slightly. "Wait…is this 'certain person' me? Are you guys trying to protect me from something Cheville told you about?"

What was this woman? A detective? Gallows winced again as she practically threw the remaining puzzle pieces in his face. "Uh…" Now what did he say? "Maybe."

Oh, _smooth_ one, Gallows. He slapped his hand to his forehead. _Why not tell her right out? I can hear it now. "Well, Ginny, we kind of need to have sex or you'll die in a few days." Yeah, that'll go over really well._

To his surprise, she did not get upset or demand why he was hiding something from her. Instead, she nodded and uncrossed her arms. "So something _is_ wrong with me. And you have to do something you can't tell me about, or I won't get better."

Ten points for that one. His face must have given away his answer, because she went on without allowing him to respond.

"I know why you can't tell me, at least," she said wearily. "If you'll tell me what you have to do, Gallows, I can help you. You understand that, right?"

Of course. But she still didn't grasp the situation. "Virginia," he said with all weightiness. "I kinda do need your help. What I gotta do involves you, too, which is why I can't do it…"

Her expression softened considerably. "Oh, because…you're worried about me! I get it now…no, wait…I don't. It can't be that dangerous…we've been through so many dangerous things before. It can't be my health, either…why would you tell me now, anyway? It's nighttime, and we're alone, so we're not supposed to go anywhere…Jet was acting strange today, kid of like he…was…"

Gallows thought he heard her heart skip a beat. Well, maybe he imagined it, but the expression on her face was nothing less than the cold, hard reality. Virginia's face drained of his colour as she trembled slightly with realization.

"We're supposed to…" All of a sudden, she found it hard to breathe. "We're not really supposed to…but that's…the cure…?"

She was panicking. He knew it. And because he knew it, he did not know why he acted out so soon. Before she could lose her breath entirely, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders.

"Hey…hey, Virginia!" he said with both a fierce and gentle nature. She was not looking at him, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. "C'mon, take deep breaths! See? This is why I couldn't tell you!"

Virginia obliged, but she felt as if her head were expanding and contracting wildly, and it hurt…when she finally did look up and breath normally, the Baskar looked ready to faint himself.

"That's what…was going on," she said quietly. "Whoever didn't get the horses…got me…?"

Oh, crap. Gallows shook his head. "No!" he said quickly. "That wasn't how it was at all. We thought you wouldn't…not with someone you didn't know, you know? That little sulky punk just won't admit his feelings…"

Her gaze became somewhat alert. "Jet…? What feelings?"

Crap. Crap, crap, crap, crap…Gallows sighed, releasing his grip from her arms. "Big story there," he told her. "Never mind. This wasn't supposed to happen…I was supposed to, well…or the curse…"

Virginia's head was spinning. A curse. Obviously a curse on her virginity…one of the few things left she'd kept for a _reason_. Here it was, the big truth…and now, looking up at him, she could not feel angry at Gallows. She could not feel angry with anyone, excluding herself. She'd been caught with her defenses down, she'd been the one who was bitten and…infected.

"You…" She looked up at him. "You said you wanted to do it…to save me? You mean…you're not angry, or embarrassed…"

Gallows did not need to hesitate. "Hey, your life in on the line. I just happen to be one of those guys that'll do anything to save his leader, best friend, teammate, 'close comrade' if you wanna get technical…"

She wanted to smile. Maybe she did…she really didn't know. She'd made up her mind. "Okay…I…Gallows, let's…I mean, I want to…to help you…"

Of all things, this was the last thing he'd expected. It felt as if someone had driven an ice-cold mallet into his gut.

"…what?" he managed to say.

"Please," she said. "You….you're right…I-I wouldn't…I don't trust anyone else…so, if it's going to happen…let's have it done…I'm a little scared…"

"But…" He shut himself up. This was _good_. This is what he walked in _looking_ for. On the other hand… "Ginny, it just…I mean, you're sure? We can't…y'know, go back if…"

She stood up abruptly. In doing so, she grabbed his arm and urged him to stand, too. Taken by surprise, he was compelled and soon stood face-to-face with her. She was trembling, but there was no mistaking that all-to-familiar glint of determination in her eyes.

The next few seconds blurred his train of consciousness. For, in the next moment, she had stepped forward and pressed her lips over his.

He added it to the list of things he didn't expect.

The first second, he spent recovering from her brash action, wondering exactly what direction to head in. He figured...no, he _knew _what he had to do and how to do it. So, carefully, he allowed the stimulating effects overwhelm him and take over his senses. She easily responded when he began to move his mouth against hers, deepening the passionate exchange.

She was frightened. He could tell. Thus, he felt it necessary to ease her uneasiness. Using a gentle, but firm hand, he pressed her entire body against him, aware that she was returning the favour by placing her hands behind his head and holding it tight.

It seemed like a dream. A dream that ended as suddenly as it came. His grip on her vanished, the provoked ardor in his antics now diminished and missing. She released him a split second after, wondering for all the world why it had ended like that.

Gallows sat back down, putting his forehead in his hands. "I...can't. It's not right."

Strange...that was how he felt. The reason he wouldn't continue no longer had anything to do with the fact that _she_ was Virginia. Suddenly, the concept had _seemed_ right, and he had done it...but somehow, his conscience had rejected it. He knew the reason, but for some other reason, its immediate effects eluded him.

Now he _really_ knew what he had to do.

Slowly, Virginia returned to the edge of her bed, staring at him with silent expectations. She knew how he felt exactly. It did _not_ seem right at all...and for that same, 'other' reason she shared with him, she felt as if she were betraying someone.

Someone she knew, with light violet eyes, silver hair...

"It's okay, Gallows..." She sighed inwardly, glad that she was able to conceal the object of her thoughts from her voice. "I guess...we shouldn't...you're right, neither of us wants this. But..."

Gallows shook his head in frustration. "But Ginny, you're still cursed. There has to be some kind of...y'know, other cure?"

She averted her eyes, staring at her pillow instead of his face. "No, that's not it...um, can I ask you...a favour?"

He was puzzled. "Uh, like what?"

"Please don't..." She looked at him. "...tell Jet."

Gallows blinked. "Tell him what?" Her expression responded. "...oh."

A wayward silence passed between them. Slowly, a smile crept onto Gallow's face as he began to understand what she was saying.

"Wait a minute," he said suspiciously. "You mean, uh…you...with Jet--"

"Gallows!" Virginia snapped, looking truly cross for the first time. "Don't even think about telling him! 'Close comrade' or not, I'll make your life miserable if you even hint...that I...well, I'd prefer..."

Oh, hallelujah! He was free!

The beginnings of a very workable plan started to form in his mind, causing his implying smile to break into an all-out grin. "Right...heh heh heh. I get it now. Want we to hook you two up?"

His answer came in the form of a flying pillow. After it had struck him across the head (however not affecting his goofy expression in the slightest) she re-gripped her 'weapon' and prepared to wallop him with it again.

Gallows grabbed the feathery instrument of destruction as it descended on him. He quickly threw it behind him, only to realize that she had already seized the pillow from his own bed and was looking ready enough to make him eat feathers.

"Alright, alright!" Gallows shielded his face from her unholy wrath. "I'm sorry! Sheesh..."

She glared for another moment before dropping the cushion on her bed. "So what if that's how I feel? Besides, even if there was a chance we could...well, he wouldn't want to. We'll have to think of something else."

"Huh?" His eyes widened. "Yeah, I...no, wait. I mean, uh...Jet's he's, uh...I got an idea. I think."

Virginia rested her chin in her hands. "You know how I can be cured without canoodling?"

His brow arched. "Canoodling?"

"Do you have an idea or not?" she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, but..." He grinned sheepishly. "This is weird. You still have to...canoodle."

She went rigid, if only slightly. "So, we're back on the drawing board..."

"No, not exactly," said the Baskar, gesturing his insistency. "This involves Plan B, and the sulky punk."

Virginia relaxed slightly. "Jet? He doesn't...well, you know Jet."

Gallows was grinning again. "Yeah he does. He just doesn't know it yet."

"Excuse me?" Her interested was perked.

"Uh, well..." He paused and thought for a moment. "Okay, here's what I'm gonna do..."

------------------------

**Lookee that…One, big ol' complication. Sad. I PROMISED myself I would stop writing romance. Yep. Promised. But OH NO, Yachi had to go do it again…sigh….**

**Yeah, I know it's a bit more serious. However, the evil plotting against (or for?) Jet now continues. Expect mayhem.**

**Klox: **coughs dramaticallyLiar.coughs some more

**Aughus: **................

**Klox:** What?

**Aughus: **I was...under the impression that robots cannot cough.

**Klox: **looks above Huh, would you look at that...

**Aughus: **Granted.


	4. The Unexpected

**Hehehe. You'll probably like this chapter, as poor Jet has more than one problem concerning Virginia's 'cure'. Read on to find out why he _really_ didn't volunteer.**

**Oh, and more (many more) 'you-know-what' (I just love saying that) references later on in this chapter. Serious ones. Man, I feel sorry for those two, poor misguided men. Actually, I feel sorry for me. I'M the one who had to write it. Where' MY freakin' reward? **

****

**Klox: **I just have to ask-

**Aughus: **Don't.

**Klox:** ……

------------------------------

**_The Gorg's Curse_**

****

When Virginia woke the next morning, Gallows' bed was empty. Smiling to herself, she rolled over and stared at the wall, unblinking. Never once before had she been so happy she had a friend like him. He understood how she felt, why she felt that way and what do about those feelings. He had even been willing to go to…unnecessary extremes in order to protect her.

Stifling a yawn, she sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes. Despite the fact that she was thirsty enough to drink from a pig trough, she felt so content that it almost caused her stomach pains. It was as if she was connected to the world, and it was a beautiful day.

After stretching, she stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. It was time to face the music, she decided firmly. As soon as she left the room, she knew she would have to put on her game face and play her part of Gallows' plan through.

She took a deep breath as she approached the door, and stepped through with her best morning attitude she knew they were expecting.

Clive was sitting on the couch, unsurprisingly buried in a book he'd discovered on Cheville's shelves. When he heard her approaching, he slowly stole his gaze away from the pages and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"Morning, Clive!" she said cheerily. She looked around innocently. "Um, where is everyone?"

"Good morning, Virginia," he said casually. He placed the thick book on the table before him. "I have not seen Jet this morning. I thought Gallows was…with you."

This was fun, Virginia decided. "No," she replied honestly. "When I woke up, he was gone."

There seemed to be a glimmer of respite behind his eyes. "I see," he replied careful to choose his words next before he spoke them. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log," she joked, smiling brightly. "Actually, Gallows stayed up late with me…"

He appeared to grow nervous in that moment, just as she'd hoped. Yep, this was definitely among the most amusing things she had ever done. She'd teach him for trying to play matchmaker.

"Up late?" he pressed. To his further embarrassment, his voice cracked slightly. He cleared it hastily.

"Yep," she said, smiling again. "I don't think I'll ever pick a pillow fight with him again. I almost lost a tooth!"

Clive was looking at her strangely, but he was also clearly thinking of something else. Inwardly, Virginia flinched. Did he suspect her of something? Surely, he didn't actually believe that she and Gallows…but no, there was something closely related to anger about him. Maybe he believed Gallows hadn't, well, 'done it' and was preparing some sort of life-threatening lecture for the Baskar when he returned.

Virginia winced when she thought of Clive's lectures. After everything Gallows was doing for her, she didn't want him to endure something like that.

"Clive, can I ask you something?" she said, keeping her voice low.

His dangerous expression seemed to melt somewhat at her request. "Of course, Virginia. What is on your mind?"

"Um, this is a bit embarrassing…" she admitted, and took a deep breath. "Can you tell Jet that he has to cure me?"

A mixture of puzzlement and surprise crossed the green-haired Drifter's face. Clive opened his mouth to say something, but found he could not. After an awkward silence, he gained his composure again.

"Did Gallows-"

"No, no," she interjected quickly. "I was…listening to you guys last night. I'll admit I'm a little disappointed that you wouldn't tell me what's happening to my own body, but I'll forgive you this time."

Clive nodded slightly, although he was still vaguely confused. "I take it you and Gallows did not…"

"Well, no." Virginia averted her eyes, feeling the familiar warmth of blood rushing to her face. "We couldn't, Clive. Gallows is more of a big brother to me than anything else! Besides, Jet…I mean, I'm really…"

He understood immediately. His face was suddenly rewritten by a look of sincere sympathy, although he could not hide the amusement behind it. "I'm sorry for not informing you," he said reluctantly. "I simply couldn't allow the risk of your reaction, or the remote possibility that you would allow harm to come to yourself before putting your comrades in uneasy positions."

"Like I said," she said, smiling broadly. "No harm done. Besides, I think I need your help…because Gallows can't help me anymore."

His inquiring expression was all she needed to continue. Virginia sighed. "I know we should have told you first, but Gallows and I came up with a plan. We need to tell Jet that Gallows disappeared during the night, and we can't find him." Her smile returned. "Gallows is hiding at the station."

For some odd reason, Clive found that his interest was perked. He'd been troubled about the prospect of their leader and Gallows together since the night before, thus he was ready and willing to follow along with any plan on the table now. "That much I understand," he said. "This is interesting. Please continue."

Virginia giggled. "Clive, you're terrible!"

"I am?" He looked genuinely surprised. "I was unaware that meddling in the romanticisms of my friends was at all unethical."

Bother Drifters were then startled by a sudden movement across the room. The door leading outside burst open, revealing the sweat-streaked face of a very angry, one Jet Enduro.

"Gallows' horse is gone," he announced gruffly, before wavering. His irritated stance melted into one of uneasiness. "Uh…sorry."

Quickly, Virginia snapped her head towards Clive. Silently, she pleaded with him to stick to _her_ story and not complicate the situation as it was.

Of course, Clive was not well known for complicating anything, besides sentences.

"I am afraid Gallows has disappeared as well," he told the silver-haired Drifter, in a perfect actor's voice. "It seems he left sometime after our departure and before midnight."

Jet's face flushed reasonably. "What?" he almost hissed, hardly constraining himself. "That dirty, cheating, lousy son-of-a-"

"Jet," said Virginia. "He probably left to get some fresh air, and fell asleep. That's all. Why is it such a problem, anyway?"

The young man half-rolled his eyes. "…nothing."

Jet knew that Gallows did not leave to get some 'fresh air'. Gallows had left to 'haul ass' to somewhere he knew he wouldn't have to deal with Virginia's 'problem'. And without Gallows around to take care of that problem, with Clive as married and technically unavailable, that left one option only.

"Hey, Clive," said Jet, trying not to clench his jaw as he spoke. He dragged his gaze over to the older Drifter. "Can I talk to you? About the horses?"

Virginia had to bite her tongue to refrain from laughing, wincing inwardly as she bit just a little too hard. Not only was Jet's question uselessly disguised, but the smug satisfaction simply radiating from Clive was enough to tickle her insides.

"I am available to talk any time," said Clive matter-of-factly. "What can I do for you?"

Jet shot a death-glare at Clive. "Right now," he said flatly. "In private. It's important."

Slowly Clive nodded and rose from the couch. "Shall we step outside?" he said courteously. He chanced a brief grin at Virginia while his back was turned to the silver-haired Drifter. "If you will excuse us, Virginia."

"Of course, I don't mind." Virginia resorted to pinching the insides of her cheeks between her teeth. If she smiled now, she would give it all away.

"We can't talk outside," said Jet quickly. Catching their glances, he snapped, "Look, don't ask, okay? Either we talk in private, or call this thing off."

Virginia feigned a look of innocence. "What thing? Are you two hiding something from me?"

"Not necessarily," said Clive, keeping his part. "Although I respect such privileged concealments, I still firmly believe that every individual problem belongs to the team as a entirety."

The team 'leader' brightened immediately. She honestly smiled. "I agree with Clive, Jet. If something is troubling you, we should all work at it together."

Jet shot Clive another reproachful glare. You know, that kind of glare that said 'what-the-hell-are-you-trying-to-do-you-son-of-a-mud-sucking-guppy?' and left any normal man feeling slightly unnerved about the possibility of being hand-shaped into a pile of goo. That kind of glare.

"Will the spare room be adequate?" asked Clive. Playing his role was becoming exceedingly difficult by the passing seconds.

"Tch…fine." Jet placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. He averted his gaze. "Just hurry up, alright? The sooner I get this done the better."

With that, he turned and stalked towards the third room of the house. He disappeared through he doorway, not sparing a glance over his shoulder or a break in his fixed expression.

Relatively positive that Jet was out of earshot, Virginia sighed. "I don't understand him, Clive. I don't…know what I feel that makes me so…close…to him."

Clive smiled reassuringly. "I am certainly no expert on split distant relationships, Virginia. I might be out of place by saying this, but what you have just described resembles love-sickness."

"Love…sickness?" Virginia faltered. "I didn't know love could make you feel sick."

His smile brightened, with a fervent waywardness. "It is an expression. I'm sorry about that. I tend to get carried away at times, but I cannot help but feel I am recurring the same steps from another time, from another point of view."

Virginia opened her mouth to say something, but could not find an easy grip on his words. "I…well, Clive…with Jet, I'm just…I…"

"For now, we should let our performances progress," he said after her last pause. He began to move towards the door to the spare room. "I will try my best to solve this ambiguity."

She merely nodded in return, and let her mind drown in these sudden, unexpected revelations.

When Clive eventually got around to shutting the spare room door behind him, he was instantly aware of Jet's forceful glowering. To his surprise, however, the silver-haired Drifter did not attack him with a volley of words and questions. Instead, Jet crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall. He said nothing.

"I will spare you the effort of admitting our difficulties and explain our current situation," said Clive. The older Drifter moved halfway across the room and stopped.

Jet looked up from his spot, but remained silent.

Clive went on. "Of course, we have less than one day to complete this task before Virginia falls very ill. We have less than 34 hours before her body ceases functioning completely."

"Don't say that," Jet mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"Don't say that!" he snapped loudly. Then, as if surprised by his own outburst, Jet exhaled deeply and placed a hand over his face. "Don't say Ginny's going to die."

Confusion gripped the older Drifter as he struggled to compare Jet's new attitude with the nearly heartless adolescent that had entered the room exactly one minute ago. "I only mean to explain when our time expires," he said carefully. He then lowered his voice. "Jet, if there is a problem, you do not have to do this. There are others who may be willing to help…myself, even…should we run out of options entirely."

Jet's cheeks grew hot, and with it his embarrassment grew. His temper flared slightly, only to be subdued with another wave of icy discomfort. "That's not it."

"What is wrong, then?" Clive's face warped slightly with concern.

Jet's reply was rushed and barely a scratch above a whisper. Clive strained his ears, but could not make sense of the sentence. "Jet, I cannot understand you if you mutter incoherently."

"I don't…" Jet drew a long breath and turned his sharp eyes on Clive. "Look, I _like_ Virginia okay? You'd be a real twit if you can't see that already! I just…don't….know…" He closed his eyes and held his breath, "…how."

That tidbit of information struck Clive like a mythril mallet. Until now he'd never considered that a youth with no biological parents or former acquaintances might not understand _how_ sex was performed or what the basic concepts of it were. Hopefully, he knew 'something', even if that 'something' was practically nothing at all.

"I know a little," Jet admitted quickly. "I mean…I kind of picked up some stuff…ugh, why do I even have to do this?"

Clive faltered, standing uneasily as he hastily adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze. "If you would prefer…there are alternatives if you do not wish to-"

"No," interrupted the younger Drifter. "That's it, I…I actually want to, but it's like I'm asking too much. Dammit, why'd she get bitten by a Gorg? I wanted…"

"More time," the sniper finished. "That is an asset we do not have."

"Are you going help me, or what?" Jet snapped.

Again, the blank look of unease entered Clive's face. "It seems I have no choice, although I am convinced that this would be a much easier task were you to speak with Gallows."

"Yeah, but that option ran out on us," said the silver-haired Drifter, scowling. "Can we get this over with now?"

Clive was beginning to feel very sorry that Gallows was no longer around. He decided that when Jet chose to beat the living out of the clumsy Baskar, he would pin Gallows down with his own two hands. Of course, that seemed like the right thing to do. For presently, Clive was ready to give any excuse to be anywhere else.

The sniper turned his head toward the small table in the corner of the room. "Please sit down," he bade the younger Drifter. "It will feel more comfortable if we are not standing so close to the door."

Jet did as he was told with a carved expression. He was clearly not happy with his situation, just as Clive did not feel inclined to discuss any of the following.

"We should begin with what you know," said Clive matter-of-factly. "How much?"

Jet grimaced. "Well, the general idea…some things, I guess…."

"Such as?"

Jet's expression changed from uneasy to irritated. "What do you mean, 'such as'? You're the one who's supposed to tell me this stuff!"

The sniper adjusted his glasses and shifted in his seat. "I am also attempting to rule out certain subjects we don't necessarily need to discuss."

"Fine," Jet growled. "First of all, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but Virginia might not like the idea of me…uh, approaching her."

This particular problem was not…well, a problem. Clive knew this, but Jet did not. Thus, the sniper merely shook his head. "That is part of this risk we all take, unfortunately. If it helps, I do not believe Virginia will object."

Jet narrowed his eyes. "Thanks. That really does help. A lot."

Clive looked grim. "I was merely expressing an opinion."

"Yeah? Well, opinionate this," said Jet. "I don't have a goddamned clue what I'm supposed to do. I just don't get what the hell the big deal is with this virginity thing, either."

Glad that the surface of the ice had been cracked, the sniper reached behind his head to scratch his neck as he spoke. "That is a bit difficult to explain. This is precisely why I tried to rule out the areas you know."

"What I know?" Jet snorted. "I know what you're 'supposed' to do. You don't spend ten years gathering tips in bars and not hear about it a few times."

Clive nodded. "And?"

"And?" Jet repeated, mildly confused. "And I'd like to know exactly what it is I'm 'supposed' to do to cure Virginia. I don't know anything about females and friggin' virginity."

Problem found, thought Clive. Solution required. He hesitated for a moment. "I assume you know the process of intercourse, then. Feminine virginity is basically a barrier that is penetrated the first time a young woman performs."

Jet appeared both uncomfortable and relieved at the same time. For a moment, neither Drifter said anything.

"This is…confusing," Jet remarked at last.

Clive nodded again. "I take it you still have questions?"

"You think?" said Jet dully. "Fine, what do you do…before? I mean, I'm guessing you don't walk up to someone and ask them to take their clothes off."

This was easier, Clive decided. Much easier. "That depends on the moment, I suppose. Hopefully, kissing Virginia won't prove to be too difficult for you to handle."

"Obviously," snapped the other Drifter, obviously not appreciating Clive's remote arrogance. "Thanks for being so supportive."

"That was not what I meant," Clive persisted. "The simple matter is, by kissing Virginia first you will be able to determine whether or not she is ready to continue."

"So fine, I kiss her. Then what?" Jet demanded, trailing annoyance in his tone.

Clive found it impossible to keep his face from flushing slightly. "After that, I believe it is best to let your instincts handle the rest."

"What?" Jet looked up sharply. "That's it? Let my instincts handle the rest? What kind of advice is that?"

"The right advice, I believe," said Clive. "I'm sorry Jet, but I cannot explain the rest without risking some great degree of error."

Jet stared on for a moment, before tilting his head forward. "Whatever."

A soft knock startled both of them to their senses. After a moment, Virginia's voice drifted to them through the door.

"Clive? I'm sorry about interrupting, but Catherine came here looking for you! She says she needs you to pick her mother up at the station!"

After clearing his throat, Clive stood up. "I will not be back until nightfall. Once I leave, I am afraid I cannot help you."

"Yeah, right…" Jet averted his eyes and stared at the far wall. "Go pick the old lady up. I'll be fine."

The sniper stared at him until he looked over again. Jet sighed. "_We'll_ be fine," he corrected himself, a little mockingly.

Clive turned and approached the door, only to pause for a scarce moment. "Best of luck," he bade the younger Drifter, hopefully.

With that, Clive opened the door and disappeared, leaving Jet to his sullen, worried thoughts and a clear appearance of a man doomed to a misfortune.

------------------------------

**Well, I was going to leave the conversation short at "Well, the general idea…" but since I knew you peeps take pleasure in the discomfort of these characters, I went on. Now I am sad. **

**BTW, many thanks to meteor9 for her fanfiction about Jet asking Gallows about the 'birds and the bees', because it made me laugh and I felt much better about writing this. Thank you.**

**Klox:** Yeah, right. And I'm the Lord of the Dance.

**Yachi: **Klox, are you aware that I have complete and utter control over you?

**Klox: **So?

(several minutes later)

**Klox:** Waaaah! Make me stop! Please!

**Aughus: **Hmmm…I did not know he could dance…

**Yachi: **He wants to jig? He can jig. grins


	5. The Decision

**Hooray! Reviews! Hooray! Last chapter! Hooray! Uh…gummie bears?**

**I told you no limes. No lemons. Don't get your hopes up, 'cause I'm sticking to that claim. I promised the little voices in my head that I wouldn't do something irresponsible like that. And, as most of you know, I must do exactly what the little voices say. It's a writer's conviction. Sadly. **

**…But, I won't leave you hanging. I know you've been waiting for this, so here it is. Enjoy, okays? Really.**

**Klox: **Does this mean it's over?

**Aughus: **So it seems.

**Klox: **Really?

**Aughus: **Really really.

------------------------------

Jet was alone, standing comfortably by himself just beside the dried up well. This was where he had been hiding for the majority of the day, since Clive left to abide his wife's wishes.

Or so Jet thought.

Truthfully, Catherine's mother and Kaitlyn's grandmother was not waiting at the station to be escorted back to Humprey's Peak. In fact, the nice elderly lady was sitting in an old cashmere upholstered chair sipping her tea, halfway across Filgaia. Gallows was the only occupant of the station when Clive arrived, which did not surprise him.

Gallows did not appreciate Clive's tease by calling him 'mom'. Nor did he enjoy the fact that he had to spend another two abysmal hours before they set out again in return to Humphrey's Peak.

Clive had taken the consideration of explaining to Gallows that Jet needed time before they interfered. Gallows' response had been similar to that of a resentful camel: a grunt and subtle silence.

Somehow, all of Gallows' plans had a way of backfiring.

Back in Humphrey's Peak, a certain silver-haired Drifter was mentally preparing the conversation that would take place before it grew too dark. Every time he thought too far into the subject, he swore and immediately cleared his head of the images that followed. What would he say to her? Should he tell her, and get it over with, like it meant nothing to him at all? Should he pretend that nothing was wrong with her, and that this is what he wanted…?

Did he? He had admitted to Clive that he _liked_ Virginia, although he hadn't specified exactly how _far_ that feeling went. Personally, every time he tried to figure that out himself, he ended up starting over again. It was like…trying to stare at something for so long that it faded away. But if you eyes moved, even for a split second, it reappeared again. And he would have to start over.

He thought it was exactly what he wanted. It was a thought however, not a certainty. True, he felt very different when he was around her and somehow keeping his stone-like attitude was much harder against her powerful will. It might have something to do with emotions, he decided. But it could just as easily mean that he was getting soft. Or perhaps because she was their leader, it was harder to disobey her. After all, seeing her skills in action had rooted an indestructible respect for her, not to mention his fellow teammates. What he felt could be 'respect', not 'love'. Even 'admiration' was a problem.

Jet was beyond confused. If he went through with it, it would prove one way or another that he _did_ care for her. Oh sure, he could pretend the next day like it meant nothing. But _they_ would know that he cared _enough_ about her that he did it at all. Assuming this disease killed her within the next day or so, not only would he feel eternally guilty, but it would reveal that he truly was the cold-blooded, heartless person he had been working so long to become.

Which led revolved his entire dilemma back to one particular problem. Did he, or did he not _want_ to sleep with Virginia?

Yes, he did.

But then he didn't.

Jet growled in frustration. _What _reason did he have to _not_ want to cure her? Every right reason was there. He was the last one, the only one in fact, that suited the task to begin with. He was hesitating now for the same reason he refused to take this responsibility in the first place. It was because of that same reason he walked out the door the previous night that he could not decide _now_.

He _must_, he realized. Either he did, or she died. If not for personal feelings, did he not at least have the responsibility to save her life? The life of the Maxwell Gang leader; the life of his teammate's friend. Yes, even his own friend, if his tangled emotions proved false.

How was he supposed to do this with an unsettled mind? One part of him screamed that he was being ridiculous. Of _course_ he loved her. Why wasn't it obvious?

But then the other part laughed and mocked him. Had he really traveled this far to let the wall between him and the world be broken by some silly _woman_?

_"After that, I believe it is best to let your instincts handle the rest."_

Jet was familiar with his instincts. He trusted them far more than he trusted himself and, by now, his own mind. Thinking made everything so complicated, but maybe trusting his instincts would pull him through. Again, like they had done so many times before.

He felt slightly stupid for his outburst before. Clive was probably right, he guessed. Trying to fight both sides of his bickering feelings was useless. He only had less than and hour before the sun set completely, and his brain was throbbing from being under so much pressure.

Jet looked up, and cursed the sky. It had faded into a smoky, dark blue. The lights of the houses across the street were already on, illuminating the streets with their soft glow.

"There you are, Jet!"

He nearly fell over in surprise, barely managing to catch himself on the side of the fountain before he was able to balance himself. Then he directed his attention to the source of the voice, and his stomach dropped.

Her face paler than usual, but smiling cheerfully all the same, Virginia strode to the other side of the fountain. "You really shouldn't disappear like that without telling me," she scolded mildly. "Just exactly what have you been doing out here all by yourself?"

Jet's words froze in his throat. He felt like he was trying to swallow a small cactus, rather than giving a straight answer.

Virginia seemed to ignore his lack of response. "One of the villagers was nice enough to let our horses stay in his barn tonight. He was…very willing to let them stay, actually. Clive spoke to him the other day and arranged it."

Jet's heart skipped a beat. _Clive_? How had Clive known to arrange special care for the horses, unless-

At once, Jet's face flushed red. Virginia took note of this and wore an expression of concern.

"Jet!" she exclaimed softly. "You're burned, aren't you? Don't tell me you stood here _all_ day!"

Forcing his sudden anger down to a menacing glint in the back of his eye, Jet snorted characteristically. "So what?" he muttered. "The sun's gone, isn't it?"

She sighed in return, "That's not my point. Come inside Cheville's house before you catch your death!"

This inspired Jet, even a little. She had invited _him_ into the house. So far, she was making this task a lot less difficult than he'd presumed it would be.

And then he frowned inwardly. Instincts, he reminded himself. Damned, stupid, annoying, useless instincts.

She did not waited for him to reply, most likely because she was not expecting one. He followed her quietly, side-glancing at the row of houses opposite of the street warily. Somehow, he had a vague feeling he was being watched. It was unlikely, but his sudden realization of Clive's abnormal trickery had set him on edge.

Something else occurred to him. There were only two beds in Cheville's house, and much to his benefit; they were in the same room. If Virginia was expecting him to stay the night, she was obviously expecting to share a room. Now he wouldn't need an excuse to be in the same room with her.

Same house, and now the same room. Jet winced inwardly. He was sure his luck had run out. Just how was he going to ask her to share the same _bed_?

When he entered the house, she was already sitting at the table. Her attention was focused on the cup of tea nestled in her hands and she didn't bother to raise her head.

_And now for the awkward moments_, he thought bitterly. He hated conversation and enjoyed silence. Right now, unfortunately, he _needed_ conversation and surely silence would kill any chance -- big or small -- he had with her.

The way she was acting -- it was strange in itself. Had he not known better, he would have assumed that she was expecting something from him. Whatever 'something' was, it could not possibly have anything to do with his intentions. He forced himself to believe that.

He was surprised when she spoke. "There's two beds," she said expressionlessly as she rotated the cup in her hands. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the one by the window. Is that okay?"

Jet swallowed, but did not manage to cure his parched throat. "Yeah, whatever," he said, failing to maintain his composure. "Um, ergh…Virginia?"

Her eyes snapped towards him, "Yes, Jet?"

The silver-haired youth opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He closed it again and apparently struggled to rephrase what he was going to say. "I, uh…" He looked away. "Never mind. Forget it."

Her face softened, much to his wonder. She pointed to the chair across from her. "Sit down," she ordered and pointed next to another cup of steaming tea set upon the wooden table. "I made you some tea, but if you don't like it, you don't have to…"

They way she said it invoked generous suspicion in his mind. Eying her carefully, he sat down at the opposite end of the table and glared conspicuously at the concoction she had prepared for him. To her own surprise, he reached for it and brought it to his lips. He was polite about it, too.

"Is…it good?" she wanted to know. Had the room been any brighter, the slightly red tinge in her cheeks would have shown.

"Yeah, thanks," he said with a touch of appreciation. "It's, uh, pretty good….I guess."

She sighed into her own tea. "Are you sure?"

Now he _knew_ there was something up. "I'm sure," he said sternly. "It's just tea, right? There's nothing wrong with it."

"Good," she said simply, and stopped spinning her cup. She looked up at him. "Jet, is something else wrong?"

Yes. Yes, there was.

"No," he lied. He was a poor liar, but he poured every ounce of meaning into that one word he knew how to use. "I'm just…well, uh, thinking."

Virginia smiled then, in the same way she did when she shared camp stories and poems with either Gallows or Clive. "Thinking about what? You almost never tell us…me what's on your mind."

"That's because there's nothing to talk about," he replied immediately. He felt a pang of guilt at her crestfallen expression and growled impatiently. "That's not what I meant," he corrected hastily. "I mean, uh…dammit, I'm not good at using words."

Her smile returned. "I don't mind. Tell me anyway."

There was definite skepticism in his brief glance to her face. "I was thinking, well, about things. I don't really…think about them that often."

To his relief, she did not inquire as to what things he thought about. Instead, she leaned forward and placed her chin on her hands. "Why not?"

Jet paused. "I didn't want to, really. I do now, if you're wondering. So don't ask."

She giggled. "I won't. But, isn't it better to share your thoughts when you're sad?"

"Sad?" He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Hey, I'm not sad! What makes you think I have anything to be sad about?"

"I don't know," she said. "Well, if you're not sad, why not tell me what's bothering you?"

"Just…because," he said sourly. "They just might involve you. Maybe I don't like putting what comes into my head on the table for people to gawk at, okay?"

But Virginia only shook her head. "Then how come I'm getting the feeling you _want_ to tell me?"

Dammit, why'd she have to be so damned _annoying_ when it came to having a decent conversation? Jet pushed his teacup away from him. "I just don't like sitting around, drinking tea and babbling about my secrets," he told her bluntly.

Her placid face finally molded into exasperation. "Jet, why won't you just…tell me? Haven't I made it clear enough that I already know? I can't stand sitting around either, and now my tea is cold, and you're only moving _away_ from me instead of…of…"

Jet stood up abruptly, jolting the table and causing the teacups to rattle. "I can't!" he snapped. "I can't even follow my instincts, 'cause I don't have any damn instincts telling me what to do! I don't know anything about this sort of thing, Ginny, so I guess that makes me pretty useless!"

Her eyes were watering slightly. Of all nights, this one was supposed to mean something and now it was ruined. _Why?_ she thought furiously. _Why can't he just for once be agreeable_? _Why can't he admit that he even cares whether or not I die?_

"You're _not_ useless," she said, just above a whisper. "Do you know what, Jet? I told the others I wanted _you_. After Gallows…he told me, but I'd guessed…I couldn't figure it out at first, that I…what I really feel…"

The cage around Jet's heart exploded. What was he really hearing? Was she saying this, or was his already confusing mind tricking him into believing that she had _feelings_ for him? Seriously, was this what it was like to go insane?

"You…" His voice cracked, much to his embarrassment. "But, I thought…since we fight a lot, and you get so angry all the time-"

"What?" she wondered aloud. "You thought I couldn't possibly have feelings for you? That I couldn't possibly love you?"

While he stood in discreet, dumbfounded elation, she turned on her heel and stalked towards the bedroom. Her heavy footsteps came to an end, as did his stupor. After using every curse word he knew on himself, Jet half-ran into the room after her.

"Say that again," he said quickly, as if he'd finished sprinting a thousand miles.

Virginia, who had positioned herself at the window with her back facing him, turned around. Her face betrayed her grief as the tears threatened to spill. "Say what?" she demanded to know. "I'm not in the mood for games, Jet."

"Just say it again," he insisted. They were practically the exact same height, which made her eyes bore straight into his. "Alright, _please_ say it again. I want to make sure. I don't know, maybe I heard wrong…"

"That I couldn't possibly love you?" she struggled to say. "Is that what you want? Don't worry Jet, you don't have to answer me. You've made it perfectly clear just how you feel. About me. About anyone!"

It was right about then Jet's instincts kicked in. "Not yet I haven't," he breathed.

It took one step, one moment and one gesture, which did not give her much time to prepare. Before she knew what he was doing, he was kissing her with such intensity it caused all strength in her knees give way. Had he not been holding onto her so tightly, she would have collapsed into a pile.

Their mouths battled fiercely for endless moments. Out of sheer thrill of the moment and certain passion, she had encircled his neck with her arms. Suddenly, nothing was wrong. Nothing about this_ seemed_ wrong. Every ounce of her body screamed out that this was _right_.

Eventually, they needed air. Even as they drew apart, their faces lingered but a scarce inch from each other. A few precious, silent seconds pass before Jet slowly captured her lips in his own again. Their next kiss was slower, more sensual than the first. His mind had already sorted itself out. Now he could think, and _act_.

Did he want this? Hell yes.

When Jet closed his arm around her waist, she agreed with him by moving towards the bed. By the time either of them remembered that their clothing was intact, Jet's so-called 'instincts' had full control of his body.

Indeed, the night was rather sleepless. As for the rest…well, what are imaginations for, anyway?

-------------------

Clive and Gallows rode into town the following morning. Before they had a chance to dismount from their horses, they were greeted by a sight that caused their jaws to drop in unison.

Virginia and Jet were standing, as ordinary as any other people, just beside the post in the middle of town. Only, Jet's arm was fitted snugly around her waist. His expression was rather ordinary -- the same 'touch-me-and-die' look mixed with sarcasm. Only, something about his eyes changed his entire demeanor into something closer to 'touch-Virginia-and-die'.

As they approached, neither of the couple said anything. Finally, Clive cleared his throat and humbly adjusted his glasses. "I hope everything…went well?"

Virginia continued to say nothing, but she nodded. Her face was clearly tired, and she didn't appear willing to waste energy on speaking.

Gallows had already abandoned his horse. Jet's protective grip around Virginia was disrupted when the Baskar slung his arm roughly around the silver-haired Drifter's shoulders and grinned widely.

"Jet, you ladies man! Just when I was beginning to doubt you-- OW!"

Virginia readied another pebble in her hand, as if threatening to aim it somewhere more unpleasant for Gallows to handle. Quickly, the towering Baskar backed away with a meek, but mischievous expression. "Geez, sorry…"

"Don't piss me off," Jet warned with and edge of weariness to his voice. "I'm too damned tired to do anything about it now, but don't think I won't kick your ass later on."

"Duly noted," Gallows grumbled, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

Clive frowned slightly. "Leaving today is a bad idea, it seems. What do you say to spending yet one more night here? Leader?"

Virginia smiled weakly. "I'm all for it," she said with evident relief. "Now that I'm better, we can start planning other things."

"Like the wedding?" came Gallows oh-so-expected comment. He flinched. "Just kidding! Spare me, oh wise leader!" he pleaded, mock-shielding his face with his arms.

"Like our next mission," she replied carelessly. "Any ideas, anyone?"

Jet gave her a look that clearly said 'don't care' and he shrugged slightly to prove his silent statement. No one else said anything for several moments.

"All right," she sighed. "Let's just relax for now. And someone--" she added crossly "--owes me an explanation."

All three men exchanged guilty expressions. They immediately changed into surprise when their leader began to laugh, and loudly. For a moment, they stood (and sat), staring rather stupidly at Virginia as if she'd lost all sense.

The streets of Humphrey's Peak were soon disturbed by the sounds of several laughing people.

And Jet joined them.

--------------------------

**Gasp. Wow. Shock. It's over. And I'm tired…it's late. And I'm tired. Wait, I already mentioned that. Bah, what would books say if they had mouths, anyway…**

**Klox: **All in favor of escaping this raving lunatic, say 'aye'.

**Aughus: **Nay.

**Klox: **Not even for a vacation?

**Aughus: **What is a 'va-ca-tion'?

**Klox: **…never mind.


End file.
